


You Are Not Prepared

by GuileandGall



Series: Violaceous Fury [33]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, F/M, Fluff, Holidays, Romance, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:06:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2731859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuileandGall/pseuds/GuileandGall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Troy always has been a bit of a last minute shopper. He never really has been the best at gift buying, sometimes he gets lucky though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Are Not Prepared

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill a Seasonal Prompt sent by Kakumei: Troy/Furia, 11 for the holiday meme (Attempting some last minute holiday shopping) especially from Troy's perspective. X)

**You Are Not Prepared**

**-1-**

The Christmas carols seemed louder than normal, but perhaps that was because the people were louder. Troy still did not know what he was doing in a department store three days before Christmas. The first time he tried to leave he actual got caught up in a throng that left him in appliances. He wandered past the well-scavenged jewelry section lecturing himself about his poor planning skills and mumbling with clear irritation about why his mother insisted that he send presents.

 _Why even bother?_ he asked himself as he found himself in house wares staring at teapots. _It's not even going to get there in time._

There was a playful little tea set that caught his eye and made him smile. The pot looked like a odd little fat tree with a vine handle and branch for a spout. Each cup bore resemblance to a wild animal. His sister would kill him if he sent Tristan that for Christmas. He could almost hear the lecture now. _She's only six. She's going to want to play with this._ He would tell her that he got it for her enjoy which would lead to a whole other lecture about age appropriate toys. The thought of it prompted his smile. _Might as well press my luck. Being her godfather has to have a few perks_ , he thought as he knelt down and found the appropriate box. He gave it a little shake and nothing sounded broken so he tucked it under his arm, chuckling to himself lowly and almost looking forward to the call it would earn him from Tessa.

Surprisingly, he had actually managed to get some shopping done already. But he the hardest were still left --his mother and Tessa, his sister. He and Tessa were always close and always liked getting her something she would never buy herself, something frivolous and lovely, when he could manage it. He wandered around the store for another twenty minutes, just kind of lost among the leftover items strewn oddly about.  He settled on a rather decorative engraved cross for his mother. That was one thing he knew would always go over well with her.

Tessa still stumped him. A saleswoman took pity on him and pointed him toward what she called a buttery cashmere sweater in a deep emerald green that would make his sister's hair pop. As the woman lead him to the register station, Troy noticed a silky, and likely very warm, scarf which faded from purple-to-lavender. As soon as he saw it one corner of his mouth ticked up at the thought of Furia. The woman told him all sorts of things about it he didn't and wouldn't remember in an attempt to get him to add it to the items he planned to leave with, but it was not really necessary at all.

On the way out of the store he let the local girl scouts box and wrap the presents. He watched them wrap each one and filled out a tag for each item, except for one. The girl in the green vest precisely folded the colorful scarf, placed it in a perfectly sized box, which she wrapped in silver paper. The whole time he felt more and more like an idiot. _What are you even thinking?_

The young woman handed him a tag for the package for him to fill out while she wrapped white ribbon around it. A white bow finished it off and he still hadn't written her name or his on the tag.

"Thank you," he told her, dropping that last package back into his bag. He pulled a fifty out of his wallet and handed it to the adult before strolling back to his car.

**-2-**

The next morning he packed up a few boxes and shipped them back home. Late or not it would be close enough. Since that evening, though, every time he returned home he noticed that silver package on the corner of his counter. The blank tag lay next to it, screaming for a name. Sometimes it felt like an accusation of his foolishness, other times a confirmation that he was an impulsive idiot. There were, however, rare moments when he thought maybe he should just give it to her.

 _I don't know Furia well enough for this, do I?_ That was the question that burned through Troy's mind. When he sipped at his coffee in the mornings or entered the apartment and caught sight of it. Mostly he was able to ignore its presence. But since he bought it, Bradshaw had wondered what he was going to do with it.

Troy had only managed to make it home for Christmas once in the four years since he'd started this assignment. It had been his second Christmas in--the first year he had not been stable enough in his position to justify it. And since then he did not want to deal with extra strain that came mostly from the questions. That year Tessa had noticed the new scars, the limp that lingered for a few weeks after he'd been stabbed in the thigh. What made it worse, he could not explain it. Couldn't tell the person he always trusted what was going on in his world and in his life. He wrote her every once and a while; called home from payphones on holidays and special occasions.

He'd spoken to them all earlier that day. Tessa had even prompted his goddaughter Tristan to ask why he had not come home to spend Christmas with them. Then again Tessa always had a bit of a devious side, and it seemed she intended to instill that gift in her daughter. Part of him wanted to be there, but the last time it just felt wrong. He felt out of place. Not that being alone was much better, or so he told himself when he splashed a little too much whiskey into his glass.

Still staring into the answerless amber liquid, he felt a gear shift when the knock echoed through the apartment. Bradshaw did not think about his safety or protocol when he yanked open the door, and suddenly he wished he had at least looked into the hall first. Maybe taken a moment to prepare himself for the person on the other side of it.

"Merry Christmas," he managed to mumble.

Furia repeated the greeting before shoving a box with a foil wrapped package on top of it into his hands. "I thought since you couldn't make it home that I could bring a little Christmas to you."

She leaned toward him and kissed him lightly. "I wish I could stay but I can't. I just wanted to stop by today."

"Checking up on me?" he said, unable to contain the grin or the pleased tone in his voice.

"Maybe a little," she admitted with a coy glance his direction. "Anyway, I have to get back before they send out the cavalry."

Troy huffed with amusement. "Hang on." He did not know why, maybe it was because she was there, maybe because he didn't care about the questions anymore, maybe because she had come to see him bearing a gift. Whatever the reason, he returned to the door with the tormenting silver package.

"You didn't have to--"

"You did," he countered.

Furia smiled, tilting her head in a little sideways nod. "True." She looked at him for a moment; Troy nodded in case she was looking for clearance to open it, which she did. Her mirth seemed to grow when she saw it. "You really shouldn't have."

"Well, I just saw it and thought of you."

Her hands were on his cheek in a second, then her lips met his. As foolish as it was to kiss her there in his doorway, he didn't think about that; Bradshaw just wrapped his arms around her and dove into the moment with her.

"Thank you," she all but whispered when she pulled away.

"You're welcome, and thank you for those," Troy said, tipping his head.

With that Furia's look went a little shy. She took a step back and spoke as she pulled off the scarf she had been wearing and traded it for the purple one. "Just a little something I stumbled across as well. And my tia's tamales. I stuck some sweets in there too, because after all it's not really the holidays without a decadence, right?"

"I think you might be right there." When he touched her face, her head tipped into his hand and he caressed her cheek. Just before he kissed her, it happened again. Her cell phone went off. It was only a text, but even so he shifted and pressed his forehead against hers.

"At least it's not Danger Zone," she replied, tipping her head and pecking him. "I'll see you around."

"How about Tuesday night?"

Furia stopped and turned, wearing a look that could only be described as charming. "Well, Tuesdays usually are pretty dead. I'm sure we can wrangle something together."

Troy watched her, noticed her fingers threading through the soft tassels of the scarf as she stepped onto the elevator. It might not quite feel completely like the Christmas' he remembered, but her little detour made it feel less lonely. His plan for Christmas dinner centered around the last turkey TV dinner he'd dug out of the freezer at the supermarket as it was closing and bottle of whiskey.

There was an overzealous part of him that itched to find out what was in the box, but he took a moment and opened the foil wrapped container. He found tamales, along with smaller containers of rice, beans, some dark-colored spicy concoction he thought looked familiar though he couldn't remember what it was caused. There were a few confections in a bag and two slices of pumpkin pie and a little cup with whipped cream in it. He smiled widely; she had gone way over the top and Troy was kind of glad, even if he did not know what everything was. That's when he noticed the note which told him that told him how to warm up the tamales the best way.

He could not help being touched by the gesture. She put a ton of thought into this. He prepped a few of the tamales and then returned to the table. After a few moments of staring at the box, that familiar fluttering excitement he always associated with Christmas morning tickled inside his ribs. Once he opened the box he started laughing. Apparently Furia decided to take it into her own hands to make sure he made it through the winter more warmly. He tried on the thickly lined bomber jacket and stuck his hands in the pockets only to pull them back out with a bright laugh. He stared at the little round hand warmers, just chuckling. It was one of the things everyone said about Furia, thorough as hell, even in this.


End file.
